The adrenaline from Jan's victory over Paula faded slowly, replaced by a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. Every muscle ached, and his mind felt like a stretched rubber band. Leo, now happily munching on a restorative Berry Jan had given him, seemed to be in much better shape. The practical session, however, was far from over. Coach Fredrin, with his booming voice, herded everyone who had finished their battles to the sidelines to observe the remaining matches.
"Don't think you're done!" he bellowed, his grin wide and fierce. "Every battle is a lesson! Watch your classmates! Learn their tricks! Find their weaknesses! The moment you stop learning is the moment you've already lost your next fight!"
Jan found a spot on one of the benches, Leo curling up at his feet. He took the coach's words to heart, his green eyes scanning the active fields with a newfound analytical focus. The classroom theory was one thing, but seeing it all play out in real-time, with twenty different variations, was the real lesson.
On a field nearby, Zayn, the cool dancer from Paldea, was in a battle against Izumi, the traditionalist from Kanto. It was a fascinating clash of styles. Izumi's female Nidoran was a model of perfect discipline, moving in precise, practiced patterns, jabbing with Poison Sting and dodging with minimal, efficient movements.
Zayn's Quaxly, however, refused to play by her rules. It was a whirlwind of motion and flair.
"Quaxly, Aqua Jet, but give it some style!" Zayn called out, snapping his fingers.
The Duckling Pokémon enveloped itself in water and shot forward, but instead of a straight line, it moved in a corkscrewing, spiraling path, making it incredibly difficult for Izumi to predict its trajectory.
"Nidoran, stand your ground! Use Focus Energy, then Double Kick!" Izumi commanded, her voice calm and even.
Nidoran braced itself, its body glowing as it heightened its critical hit ratio. As the spiraling Quaxly came into range, it lashed out with two swift, powerful kicks. The first one connected, but Quaxly, in a stunning display of agility, used the momentum of the hit to spin, causing the second, more powerful kick to miss entirely. It landed gracefully a few feet away, shaking the water from its crest as if it were all part of a performance.
"See? Flow like water!" Zayn said with a cool smirk.
Jan was captivated. Zayn wasn't just battling; he was performing. Every move was designed to be as visually impressive as it was effective, a strategy that seemed to be throwing the hyper-disciplined Izumi completely off her game. Zayn wasn't just trying to win; he was trying to control the artistic narrative of the battle itself.
In another arena, the silent powerhouse Aren was facing off against Corrin, the history buff. It was a battle of attrition. Aren's Gible was relentless, a miniature engine of destruction, shrugging off hits and charging forward with Dragon Breath and bite. Corrin's Golett, however, was a literal wall. It stood its ground, using its immense defensive capabilities and moves like Iron Defense to withstand the onslaught.
"Fascinating!" Corrin exclaimed, pushing his glasses up. "The Golett, an artificial Pokémon created by an ancient civilization, versus the Gible, a primal draconic species! This is a battle for the ages!"
Aren just grunted, his expression unchanged, and ordered another attack. He was the unstoppable force, and Corrin was the immovable object.
Jan absorbed it all, his mind racing, cataloging the different approaches. He saw the raw, untamed power of Koa's Torracat, the bubbly but surprisingly effective combination attacks from Belle's Pachirisu, and the sheer, chaotic speed of Kimmy's Minccino. Every student had a unique fingerprint, a distinct personality that was reflected perfectly in the way they commanded their Pokémon.
His gaze eventually drifted over to where the first group of students were waiting. Sai was sitting alone at the far end of a bench, hunched over, his bright red hair seeming to droop. He was staring at Sparky's Poké Ball in his hands, his knuckles white. The booming confidence, the arrogant swagger, it was all gone. In its place was a quiet, heavy aura of defeat.
Jan felt a knot of sympathy in his gut. He knew he disliked Sai's arrogance, but seeing him so completely crushed was different. Kento's victory hadn't just been a loss; it had been a systematic dismantling of Sai's entire philosophy of battle. Power and speed, the only things Sai seemed to value, had been rendered useless by simple, clever strategy.
Letting out a soft sigh, Jan stood up. Leo looked up at him, tilting his head. "Stay here, boy," Jan murmured, before making his way over to his roommate.
He approached cautiously, feeling awkward. He wasn't good at this sort of thing. "Hey," he said, his voice softer than he intended.
Sai didn't look up. "What do you want?" he mumbled, his voice rough.
"I, uh... I saw your match," Jan started, immediately regretting how lame it sounded. He sat down on the bench, leaving a respectable distance between them. "That was a tough break. Kento's a lot smarter than he looks."
"Tell me something I don't know," Sai spat, his voice thick with frustration. "He made me look like an idiot. A complete amateur."
"No, he didn't," Jan said, surprising himself with the conviction in his own voice. "He just... he had a good strategy. That mud trick was smart. It's not your fault you didn't see it coming. Nobody did."
Sai finally looked up, his grey eyes clouded with a storm of anger and humiliation. "It *is* my fault! I'm supposed to be the best! The undisputed champion! I told everyone... I promised Sparky... and we lost. In the first match. On the first day. To a Mudkip!." He said the word "Mudkip" like it was a curse.
"It doesn't matter what Pokémon it was," Jan said, leaning forward slightly. "What matters is how the trainer used it. And it's just one battle, Sai. It's the first of thousands we're gonna have here. It doesn't define anything."
Sai scoffed, turning away again. "Easy for you to say. You won. You beat the girl everyone was whispering about."
"I got lucky," Jan admitted honestly. "My plan barely worked. If her Kirlia hadn't stepped on that hot tile at the exact right second... I would've been toast. She's way stronger than me."
This seemed to get through to Sai. He looked at Jan, a flicker of something other than anger in his eyes. He was still miserable, but the aggressive, defensive shell had cracked, just a little.
"Whatever," he muttered, though it lacked the earlier bite. He lapsed back into silence, staring at his Poké Ball.
Jan sat with him for another minute, the silence stretching between them. He had done what he could. He knew it wasn't a magic fix, but maybe, just maybe, it was a start. He was about to get up when the final battle on the fields concluded with a loud crash.
"AND THAT'S A WRAP!" Coach Fredrin's voice echoed, signaling the end of the session. "BRING IT IN, GRUNTS! HUDDLE UP!"
Jan gave Sai one last look before jogging back to the center of the hall, where the rest of the class was gathering, a chaotic mix of triumphant winners, sullen losers, and exhausted survivors.
Fredrin stood before them, his Haxorus at his side, a wide, proud grin on his face.
"Listen up!" he roared, quieting the chatter. "I've gotta say, for a bunch of first-day rookies, I am IMPRESSED! I saw fire! I saw spirit! I saw some truly genius moves out there, and some truly bone-headed ones too!" he added with a hearty laugh, which made a few students blush. "You all have a long, LONG way to go. But the raw material? It's here. I'm proud of every single one of you for stepping onto that field today!"
A wave of relief and pride washed over the students. Coming from the intense coach, the praise felt like a tangible reward.
"But don't you dare let it get to your heads!" he continued, his expression turning serious, though the grin never quite left his eyes. "The moment you get complacent is the moment you're asking for a beatdown! Now, some of you might be wondering why we threw you into the fire like that on day one. Asher, you look like you have a question."
He hadn't, but he did now. "Yeah, Coach! What was the big idea? Just to see what we could do?"
"That's part of it!" Fredrin boomed. "But there was a bigger reason. Today's battles, combined with your entrance exam scores, were used to establish something very important. The official First-Year Trainer Department... Ranking."
A confused murmur rippled through the class. Ranking?
Before anyone could ask, Paula's cool, clipped voice cut through the noise. She hadn't moved, but her voice carried. "It is a performance-based hierarchy. Each year, the Trainer Department students are ranked from one to forty based on cumulative scores. It is the primary system for gauging a student's standing within the academy."
Everyone turned to stare at her. Coach Fredrin let out a booming laugh. "Bingo! The quiet one's got it! Looks like someone read the academy's advanced student handbook!"
Paula's expression didn't change, but Jan felt a renewed sense of awe at her preparedness. Of course she already knew.
"She's right!" Fredrin confirmed, turning his attention back to the class. "This ranking is your lifeblood in this academy! This isn't just for bragging rights, grunts. Your rank determines EVERYTHING!"
He gestured to the massive scoreboard, which was currently blank. "The higher your rank, the more perks you get! We're talking monthly AP stipends! The top ten get a serious bonus! We're talking priority access to the most advanced training rooms, the ones with customizable habitats and battle robots! We're talking discounted prices on everything from TMs to Protein shakes at the shops! And most important of all," he said, his voice dropping slightly with dramatic effect, "we're talking access to the deeper, higher-level sectors of the Wild Area! The places where the rare, powerful Pokémon live!"
A collective gasp went through the students. Now they understood. This wasn't just a number; it was a measure of their progress, their potential, and their privilege. It was a tangible ladder of power, and everyone wanted to be at the top. The friendly, first-day atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a thick, competitive tension. Everyone was sizing each other up, their classmates no longer just peers, but rungs on the ladder.
"Your ranking is a living, breathing thing," Fredrin explained. "It's based on your battle performance, your strategic growth, your win-loss record, everything! It's a measure of your total strength as a trainer! Now... are you ready to see where you stand?"
Without waiting for an answer, he snapped his fingers. "Show 'em the list!"
The colossal scoreboard flickered to life. Forty names and numbers appeared in a shimmering, holographic display. Fredrin was right; it wasn't just Class 1-A. It was a mixed list of both first-year Trainer classes.
***
Rank 1: Paula (Class 1-A)
Rank 2: William (Class 1-B)
Rank 3: Aren (Class 1-A)
Rank 4: Claude (Class 1-B)
Rank 5: Vivian (Class 1-B)
Rank 6: Koa (Class 1-A)
Rank 7: Xavier (Class 1-A)
Rank 8: Zayn (Class 1-A)
Rank 9: Asher (Class 1-A)
Rank 10: Sorren (Class 1-B)
Rank 11: Kento (Class 1-A)
Rank 12: Melia (Class 1-A)
Rank 13: Jan (Class 1-A)
Rank 14: Sen (Class 1-B)
Rank 15: Jammy (Class 1-B)
Rank 16: Saiki (Class 1-A)
Rank 17: Yuki (Class 1-B)
Rank 18: Fena (Class 1-B)
Rank 19: Belle (Class 1-A)
Rank 20: Ester (Class 1-A)
Rank 21: Yoshikawa (Class 1-B)
Rank 22: Oren (Class 1-B)
Rank 23: Izumi (Class 1-A)
Rank 24: Johan (Class 1-B)
Rank 25: Hans (Class 1-B)
Rank 26: Hiori (Class 1-B)
Rank 27: Niana (Class 1-A)
Rank 28: Tommy (Class 1-B)
Rank 29: Josh (Class 1-B)
Rank 30: Corrin (Class 1-A)
Rank 31: Clara (Class 1-A)
Rank 32: Kashi (Class 1-B)
Rank 33: Maya (Class 1-A)
Rank 34: Bomi (Class 1-B)
Rank 35: Kimmy (Class 1-A)
Rank 36: Lilia (Class 1-B)
Rank 37: Alma (Class 1-A)
Rank 38: Sarah (Class 1-B)
Rank 39: Laura (Class 1-B)
Rank 40: Sai (Class 1-A)
***
Everyone surged forward, craning their necks, a wave of nervous energy sweeping the room. Jan's heart hammered in his chest as he scanned the list, his eyes flying past unfamiliar names from Class 1-B. He saw Kento's name at a very respectable 11th place. He saw Asher at 9th, his natural talent clearly recognized. He spotted Zayn at 8th, Xavier at 7th, Koa at 6th.
Then he found his own name.
Rank 13: Jan(Class 1-A)
Thirteenth. Out of forty of the most talented young trainers in the world. A wave of relief and pride washed over him. It was good. It was more than good; it was a fantastic starting point. It meant his win hadn't been a fluke. It meant the academy saw his potential.
His eyes instinctively traveled to the top of the list, curious to see who had claimed the top spots. The names in the top five were all from their class. Then his eyes hit the number one position, and his jaw went slack.
Rank1: Paula (class 1-A)
A shocked silence fell over the students from Class 1-A, followed by a torrent of disbelieving whispers. Everyone turned to look at Paula, who was standing perfectly still, her expression as placid and unreadable as ever, as if she were looking at a weather report.
Jan's mind reeled. It didn't make any sense. He had won. He had beaten the number one ranked student on the first day. How could she possibly be ranked higher than him? The pride he'd felt moments ago curdled into a hot sting of indignation. His mouth opened before his brain could stop it.
"Coach Fredrin, sir," Jan said, his voice louder than he intended. Everyone turned to him. "I don't understand. If the ranking is based on our battles today... I beat Paula. How is she ranked number one?"
The question hung in the air, a direct challenge to the system's logic. Coach Fredrin looked at Jan, then at Paula, and then let out a short, sharp laugh.
"Aha! I was waiting for someone to ask that!" he said, pointing a thick finger at Jan. "You've got fire, kid! I like it! And you're right. Your performance was damn impressive. That heated-tile strategy was one of the most creative things I've seen from a rookie in years. You out-thought your opponent, and you earned your win. No question."
Jan felt a swell of validation. "So then—"
"BUT," Fredrin cut him off, his voice turning serious again. "Winning isn't everything. This initial ranking also takes into account your entrance exam, which was a far more comprehensive test of your abilities. And on that exam, Paula's performance was, to put it simply, perfect. Flawless tactical execution, perfect energy management, 100% accuracy. The highest score we've ever recorded."
He then looked from Jan to Paula, a knowing glint in his eye. "And as for your battle today... you only won because Paula was holding back."
The words hit Jan like a physical blow. Holding back? The entire room seemed to suck in a breath.
The battle flashed through Jan's mind. The effortless dodges. The calm, precise commands. The way Kirlia had controlled him with Psychic at the end. He had thought his Roar strategy was a brilliant counter. But what if... what if she had let him do it? What if she could have ended the match at any time, but chose not to? The idea was humiliating. His hard-fought, brilliant victory suddenly felt like a hollow sham, a pat on the head given to a child.
"Hold... holding back?" Jan stammered. "Why?"
"That's for her to know," Fredrin said, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Maybe she was just gathering data. Maybe she wanted to see what you could do when you were pushed to your limit. The point is, her full power is on a completely different level. Your win was a testament to your strategy, Jan. But her rank is a testament to her overwhelming strength."
Frustration and shame warred within Jan. He wanted to argue, to protest, but he knew the coach was right. The power he'd felt from that Psychic attack... it was immense. He swallowed his pride, the bitter taste of it coating his tongue.
"I... I see," he mumbled, looking down. "Thank you for explaining, sir."
He chanced a look at Paula. For the first time, she was looking directly at him. Her amethyst eyes held no pity, no arrogance, no emotion at all. It was the gaze of a scientist observing a specimen. Then, the moment passed. She broke eye contact and looked back at the board, the brief connection severed. Jan felt a bead of sweat drip down his temple.
'It's fine,'he told himself, clenching his fists. 'It's just a number. I'll catch up. I'll get strong enough that she can't hold back, even if she wants to'.The frustration was still there, but now, it had a new, sharper edge
determination.
He forced his eyes back to the ranking board, his gaze travelling down, past his own name, past the middle of the pack. He wanted to see where everyone else had landed. And then he saw it. At the very bottom.
Rank 40. Sai(class 1-A)
The name sat there, a brutal, final judgment. Last place. Out of everyone.
Jan's head whipped around to find his roommate. Sai was standing near the back of the crowd, his face pale, staring at the number. The sheer, crushing weight of that number seemed to be physically pressing down on him, making him smaller. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He wasn't just disappointed; he was annihilated.
Jan felt a fresh wave of pity for him, but before he could even think of what to do, a hand landed on Sai's shoulder.
"Hey," Asher's cheerful voice said, cutting through the heavy silence around Sai. "Tough break, man. But hey, it's just the first ranking, right? It's not gonna stay that way for long."
Sai flinched, shrugging the hand off. "Leave me alone, Ketchum."
"No way," Asher said, his grin not wavering. "Look at it this way! You're at the bottom, which means you've got nowhere to go but up! You get to have the biggest comeback story in the whole academy! It's gonna be awesome!"
Asher's relentless optimism seemed to baffle Sai, breaking through his despair with sheer confusion. He stared at Asher as if he'd grown a second head.
Asher then turned to the coach, raising his hand high. "Yo, Coach Fredrin! This is all cool, but how do we actually *change* the ranking? We can't be stuck with these numbers all year, can we?"
Fredrin's grin returned, wider than ever. "Another excellent question! That's the best part! This ranking isn't static! It's a battlefield! Every month, we have an Official Ranking Battle period. During that week, any student can formally challenge any other student to a one-on-one battle."
He began to pace in front of them, his energy building. "The rules are simple! You can only issue one challenge per month. If you challenge someone ranked higher than you and you WIN, you take their rank, and everyone between you and them shifts down one spot! If you LOSE, you stay where you are, and you can't challenge anyone again until the next month! This system is designed for one thing: to light a fire under you! To create rivals! To force you to climb over each other to reach the top! Iron sharpens iron, and I expect you all to be sharp enough to cut a diamond by the end of the year!"
The air crackled with a new, aggressive energy. A challenge system. A direct way to prove themselves. Jan's eyes immediately flickered to Paula. One day, he'd challenge her. A real battle, with no holding back.
"Now," Fredrin said, his voice lowering again, a signal that he wasn't finished. "I want to reassure you all. This ranking is a tool for motivation. No matter what your number is, as long as you pass your exams and complete your coursework, you can still graduate from this academy."
A collective sigh of relief went through the class.
"BUT," he boomed, and the tension snapped right back into place. "That comes with one, very serious, condition. At the end of the academic year, the student who is ranked dead last... at number forty... will be subject to an official review. A review that could lead to being held back a full year... or, in cases of extreme underperformance, outright expulsion from the academy."
This time, it wasn't a whisper or a murmur. It was an uproar. Expulsion? The stakes had just been raised from academic pride to their very future. The number 40 was no longer just the bottom; it was a potential death sentence for their dreams.
Every eye in the room, Jan's included, darted to one person.
Sai.
He was no longer just the boy in last place. He was the first person standing on the trapdoor. The color had completely drained from his face. He looked, for the first time since Jan had met him, truly and utterly afraid.
"Class dismissed!" Coach Fredrin roared over the noise, his job done. "Hit the showers, then get some lunch! The hard work is just getting started!"
The students began to break apart, but the atmosphere was forever changed. They were no longer just a class. They were forty rivals, locked in a year-long battle for survival, where the bottom was a place no one could afford to be. And the first battle, the battle against the dreaded number 40, had already begun.